'role' with It

Every pump and thrust was enough to push me higher on the bed with every stroke. As I slid across the bed, I put my arms above my head and braced myself against the headboard. The man above me was sweating and breathing hard from the exertion. The veins in his neck almost seemed to pulse in time with me squeezing him with my pussy.

"You like it? You like this fat cock?" he managed to grunt between strokes.

"Uh-huh," was all I could manage through my own heavy breathing.

He crashed his body against mine several times in quick succession. "Better than your husband?"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Come on, you can tell me. I fuck you better than he does, don't I?"

I smirked at him but still didn't respond. I couldn't quite figure out what he was playing at.

"I know you've had your eye on me for a long time," he said, slowing his strokes long enough to speak coherently. "I've had my eye on you too. You're so beautiful. And your body is--oh fuck!" He groaned as I squeezed him again. "I love your body." He leaned onto one hand and raised the other to tweak my nipple. "Mmm...these fat tits...," He reared back and lifted my legs, kissing my ankle as he put them on his shoulder. "And these luscious legs...," The room filled with loud smacks as his hips crashed against my ass.

The new angle ramped up the pressure to my pleasure center and I couldn't help shutting my eyes and moaning.

"See? I knew you liked it." His voice dripped with arrogance, almost condescension. "Just admit it. I'm better than your husband." He reached down and thumbed my clit, drawing a shriek from deep within my lungs. "Say it."

I shook my head from side to side.

"Say it, or I'll stop." As if making good on his promise, he withdrew until only the head remained inside.

I tried working my hips down the bed toward him, but he held me in place. I clutched at the sheets and balled them up in my fists.

"Say it," he repeated, somewhat louder than before.

I released the sheets and ran my hands over my damp face.

"Say it...," he whispered.

I slapped my palms against the bed. "Ok, fine! Yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, you fuck me so much better than my husband!"

"And how long have you wanted me?"

"I've wanted your cock since the first time I met you. Now, give it to me!" I wiggled my hips, begging for it.

"Hmph," he grunted. He reared back and slammed against my body.

He drove into me again and again making my tits rock on my chest. His eyes followed their motion until he leaned down and tried to take one of my nipples into his mouth. The angle of his neck was clearly uncomfortable and awkward, so he settled for licking and nibbling along the curve of my breast instead. His hot breath drifting over my skin and his eager tongue sent shivers through my body and ramped up the pleasure radiating from between my legs.

I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as I lifted my chest to his mouth. The scent of our mingled sweat and arousal filled my nostrils. Our combined sounds echoed off the walls of our bedroom and rang in my ears--skin slapping against skin, breathless moans, and the creaking of the bed beneath us.

"Oh God...you feel so good," he groaned against my chest. "So tight and wet..."

His words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through my body. I tightened my legs around him, urging him deeper. "Don't stop," I pleaded.

I could feel my climax building like a ball of molten lava deep within the core of a volcano. His relentless thrusting and the friction against my most sensitive spots had me teetering on the edge. I dug my nails into his back and raked them across his sweat-slicked skin.

"I'm so close," I panted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He lifted his head from my breast, his eyes a mix of arousal and something I couldn't make out. "Then cum for me," he growled. "Let me feel you cum all over my cock." He raised his body just enough to snake his hand between our bodies and find my clit with his thumb.

The added stimulation was all it took to push me over the edge. "Oh fuck! Oh Brad!" My back lifted off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over me, making me cry out. My inner walls clenched rhythmically around him as my orgasm erupted through my body. He groaned deeply, his hips stuttering as I tightened around him.

"That's it, baby. Cum on my cock," he panted, his strokes becoming more erratic.

I shut my eyes and disappeared into a haze of bliss, my body trembling with aftershocks. Through half-open eyes, I watched his face contort in ecstasy. His jaw clenched as he neared his own release.

"You're gonna make me cum," he groaned. "Where do you want it?"

Even drunk on pleasure as I was, I knew what he wanted, but I didn't want to do it. Instead, I grabbed my tits and squeezed them at him.

A slight frown of disappointment creased his face. "You sure you don't want it in your mouth?"

I shook my head back and forth. The disappointment became more noticeable on his face. His thrusting slowed as he looked down at me, his brow furrowed. I could see the conflict in his eyes--the desire to finish versus the disappointment of not getting what he wanted. But I didn't feel like spending the rest of the night trying to rid my mouth of the disgusting, lingering taste of cum.

I squeezed my breasts together more firmly, creating a tempting valley between them. "Come on, don't you want to fuck these tits and see your cum all over them?"

His eyes narrowed as I squeezed him with my muscles.

I arched toward him, pushing my breasts up towards him invitingly. "Give it to me, Brad," I demanded. "Cover me in your hot milk."

With a few more powerful thrusts, he let out a deep groan and pulled out. He quickly slid up my body and straddled my chest, his cock twitching mere inches from my breasts. I kept them pressed together, creating the perfect target for him.

"Oh fuck, here it comes," he grunted.

I watched as his cock pulsed, shooting thick ropes of cum across my chest. The first jet landed on my neck, hot against my skin. The rest splattered across my breasts in pearly white streaks. I could feel it pooling in the valley between them, warm and sticky.

His body shuddered as he milked out the last few drops, his eyes fixed on the mess he'd made of me. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, a satisfied smirk spreading across his lips.

"God, you look so fucking hot covered in my cum," he panted, his eyes roving over my glistening chest.

I smiled up at him, running a finger through the sticky mess on my chest. "Mmm, well, you sure gave me a lot." I wasn't sure what else to say.

He collapsed beside me on the bed, his breathing still heavy. After a long silence, he said, "What do you think Marco would think if he could see us right now?"

I cringed at the mention of my husband's name. I tried to picture it--my husband standing at the bedroom door looking at me covered in another man's cum. My first instinct was to assume he'd be furious. But given the way he always seemed to show me off to his friends, I couldn't help wondering if he'd be pleased to see that his friend had enjoyed me so thoroughly.

I shook my head and sat up. Almost immediately, I could feel the cum running down from my tits. I cupped my hand across my abdomen as I scurried to the bathroom to clean myself up. When I got back to the bedroom, he was lying back with one arm draped over his face. I got in next to him and cuddled up against him, my head resting on his chest. His heartbeat was gradually slowing beneath my ear. I traced idle patterns on his skin, feeling the slight dampness of lingering sweat beneath my fingertips. The room was quiet, filled only with the sound of our breathing.

"So," he said after awhile, "you never answered my question."

I tensed slightly. I thought we were done with the fantasy. "About Marco?"

"Mm-hmm." His fingers lazily stroked my hair. "What do you think he'd say if he saw us?"

I sighed, caught up in a swirl of emotions. "I don't know, Brad. Part of me thinks he'd be angry. But sometimes, he just..." I trailed off.

"Well, tell me this," he said, "did you enjoy it?"

I lifted my head and looked him directly in the eyes. "Is 'Brad' asking or you?"

My husband Marco's eyes softened as he cupped my cheek. "It's me asking, Leila. Just me."

I searched his face, trying to read the emotions there. There was vulnerability in his gaze, but also a hint of that competitive fire I knew so well. I chose my words carefully.

"I...yes, I enjoyed it. It was... intense." I ran my fingertips along his jawline. "But you know it's always you I want, Marco. You. No fantasy can compare to what we have. Ok?"

He seemed to relax slightly at that, pulling me closer against his chest. "I know, baby. I just...sometimes I worry. When we roleplay, I wonder if you're really thinking of someone else."

I leaned in and kissed him. "It's always you I want. I married you. I love you."

Something in his gaze suggested he wasn't completely convinced.

Roleplaying had been his idea in the first place, and I'd been against it for this very reason. But he'd pestered and pressured me until I relented. We'd set some ground rules, and for the most part, it was fun. But one of the main rules we'd had was that we never roleplayed actual people we knew. He'd just broken that rule and now his feelings were hurt.

I let out a deep sigh and rolled away. I stared at the ceiling, my mind racing. The afterglow of our lovemaking was quickly fading, replaced by heavy tension that was choking the air out of the room. I could feel Marco's eyes on me, waiting for me to say something more.

"You know," I began carefully, "when we started this roleplay thing, we agreed not to use people we know. Especially not your friends."

Marco was quiet for a moment. "I know. I...I guess I got carried away."

I turned my head to look at him. "Why would you use Brad, though? Of all people?"

Marco shrugged, not meeting my eyes. "I've seen the way he looks at you sometimes. And how you laugh at his jokes."

The knot in my stomach tightened. "Marco, there's nothing between Brad and me. He's your friend. I laugh at all your friends' stupid jokes. But that's just me trying to be a good host and a pleasant wife. I know how you guys talk about each others' wives and girlfriends. I don't want them bad-mouthing me to you behind my back and calling me a bitch for no reason."

Marco's arm draped across my waist, but it felt heavier than usual. I put my hand across his arm and gently scratched my fingernails along his forearm until the hairs stood on end. I looked up to his face, but I could see the flicker of something in his eyes--jealousy and insecurity.

I cupped his face gently. "I only want you."

He nodded silently.

"No more real people, ok?" I said.

He nodded again silently.

My own reinforcement of that rule didn't last long. Our episode with his friend 'Brad' and the insecurity it brought out in Marco was enough to ignite insecurities with my own friends. I found myself reexamining every interaction that he'd ever had with them. Every word. Every gesture. Every smile. I had the utmost faith in my friends but wasn't so sure that, given the opportunity, Marco would resist the urge to fuck them.

I knew better, but a week after the 'Brad Episode', I waited in the living room for Marco to get home from work. As soon as I heard him at the door, I darted to the side of the foyer. When he walked in and shut the door, I ran up behind him and put my hands over his eyes.

"Guess who?" I said in a sing-song voice.

"Not Leila?" Marco said.

"Nope."

"Uhh...it kind of sounds like Leila."

"Give up?" I asked.

"Sure."

"It's Julia," I said at last, referencing one of my best friends.

Marco grabbed my wrists and gently pulled my hands down from his face. "Leila, I don't think--"

"It's Julia," I repeated.

Marco's shoulders tensed as he turned to face me, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Leila, we agreed--"

"It's Julia," I insisted. My voice was silky and seductive, mimicking Julia's slightly huskier tone. "Leila won't be back for awhile."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I...I don't think this is a good idea."

I ran my hands down his chest, feeling his heart race beneath my palms. I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear. "Why not? Don't you want me? I've seen the way you look at me when you think Leila isn't watching."

Marco's hands found my hips, but he held me at arm's length. "Leila, stop. This isn't right."

I pressed closer, undeterred. "But I want you, Marco. I've wanted you for so long." I trailed my fingers along his jawline. "Don't you want me too?"

His breath hitched, and I could see him weighing the choice in his mind. "I...we can't. Leila is my wife. I love her."

"She doesn't have to know," I whispered, my lips barely kissing the warm skin of his neck. "I'm not trying to steal you away. It can be our little secret."

Marco's grip on my hips tightened, but he didn't push me away. I could feel his resolve wavering. "Julia...we shouldn't..."

Before he could finish the sentence, I silenced him with a kiss, deep and passionate. For a moment, he remained rigid, but then I felt him soften as I slipped my tongue into his mouth. His hands slid from my hips to my lower back, pulling me tight against him. I could feel his hardness pressing against my stomach.

"God, Julia," he groaned against my lips. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"But it feels so good, doesn't it?" I nipped at his lower lip.

His hands roamed my body hungrily, cupping my breasts through my shirt. "Yes, it does," he admitted breathlessly. "But Leila..."

"Forget about her," I insisted, reaching down to palm him through his pants. "It's just us right now. Enjoy it." I squeezed him. "Hurry, before she gets back."

The last of his resistance faded away and he spun us around and pressed me against the wall. His lips found my neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there. I gasped in genuine pleasure, pressing into him.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," I panted, playing into the role."

Marco's hands were everywhere, roaming my body with an urgency that was almost unfamiliar. He gripped my thighs and hoisted me up, thumping me hard against the wall as I wrapped my legs around his waist.

"Julia," he groaned, burying his face in my neck, "You're so fucking sexy."

A spike of jealousy tore into my chest, but I tried to keep it at the edge of my mind. This was what I'd wanted, but now that it was happening, a part of me wished he'd push me away. "Show me," I demanded, grinding against him. "Show me how much you want me."

He pinned me to the wall with his hips and gripped the bottom of my shirt and hoisted it to my neck. He sank his face into my tits, sucking and biting them through the lace of my bra with a ravenous hunger.

I pressed my head back against the wall and tried to give in to the feelings in my body. Despite the roleplay, this was my husband with his face buried in my tits. He didn't have my friend Julia pinned against the wall--it was me, his wife. I tried to focus on the physical sensations, the warmth of his mouth on my skin, the hardness pressing urgently against me. But a sick feeling was growing in the pit of my stomach.

I didn't have long to dwell on it as he lowered me back to the floor. His hands fumbled with the button of my jeans as he kissed a trail up my neck. "I've wanted this for so long."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Marco," I whispered, my voice wavering slightly.

He took my hesitance for pleasure and dipped his hand into the front of my panties. "Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned as he ran his fingers over my mound.

I was wet in spite of the warring thoughts in my mind. I shuddered as Marco's fingers explored me, my body responding despite my mental turmoil. His touch was almost desperate. He kissed me deeply, his tongue probing my mouth as his fingers slid inside me.

"God, Julia," he moaned against my lips. "You feel amazing."

Hearing her name sent another jolt through me. I tried to push away the hurt, to stay in character, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Marco's free hand pulled down my bra cup and kneaded my bare breast roughly as he pumped his fingers in and out of me.

He moved his mouth to my ear. "Tell me you want me," he said, nipping at my earlobe.

I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "I want you, Marco. I've always wanted you."

He groaned, pressing his head against mine. "I've thought about this so many times. You're even better than I imagined

I shut my eyes tight and stared hard at the blackness on the back of my eyelids as if I could erase the fantasy by sheer force of will. "Tell me more," I urged, my voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me what you've imagined."

His fingers curled inside me, making me gasp. "I've thought about bending you over Leila's vanity," he said, his voice dripping with desire. "Watching your face in the mirror as I fuck you from behind."

My stomach lurched at the mention of my own name, but I forced myself to stay in character. "Yes," I moaned, arching into his touch. "What else?"

Marco's lips trailed along my neck as he spoke. "I've imagined you on your knees in front of me, those full lips wrapped around my cock." His fingers pumped faster, his thumb circling my clit. "Sucking me off until I fill your mouth with cum."

My stomach lurched at the thought of it, but I felt my body respond to his continued touch. His words painted vivid images that both aroused and disturbed me. I struggled to stay in character as Julia, but the hurt and jealousy were becoming overwhelming.

"I need your pussy. I need to be inside you. Now." He withdrew his fingers and fumbled with his belt.

As he worked to free himself from his pants, I battled with my conflicting emotions. Part of me wanted to stop this, to reveal myself and confront him about his apparent desires for my friend. But another part, fueled by a mix of arousal and morbid curiosity, urged me to see how far he would go.

Marco finally managed to push his pants and boxers down, his erection springing free, long and strong. He gripped my thighs and lifted me up against the wall again. I could feel the hot, hard length of him pressing against me. My heart was pounding, a mix of arousal and dread coursing through me.

"Wait," I gasped, putting a hand on his chest. "What about protection?"

Marco groaned in frustration as his head slipped in. "Fuck, I don't have anything. Do you?"

I shook my head, still playing the role of Julia. "No, I...I didn't expect this to happen."

He pressed his forehead against mine, his breath coming in ragged pants. "I don't care. I need you. I'll pull out, I promise." He gently rocked his hips against me, sinking further into me.

The recklessness of his words shocked me. This wasn't like Marco at all. I felt a surge of anger and hurt rise up in me, threatening to explode. I took a deep breath, trying to stay in character despite the emotional firestorm within me. "No, Marco. We can't risk it." I put a hand on his chest and gently pushed.

He groaned in frustration, his hips still rocking against me. "Please, Julia. I need you so badly."

The desperation in his voice cut through me like a knife. I pushed against his chest more firmly. "I said no, Marco. Not without protection." I'd had enough. This wasn't my Marco. My loving, devoted husband wouldn't risk everything for a quick fuck with my friend. The fantasy had gone too far.

Marco slowed but continued trying to bottom out in me, confusion clouding his eyes. "What? But I thought--"

"I said stop!" I snapped, my voice cracking. I pushed harder, forcing him to lower me to the ground. As soon as my feet touched the floor, I shoved him away.